


Honey Sweet

by Water_For_Pebbles



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:49:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28331166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Water_For_Pebbles/pseuds/Water_For_Pebbles
Summary: A visit from John's friend has him questioning his sexuality and Sherlock's as well.
Relationships: Bill Murray & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37





	Honey Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic! I’m so nervous. 
> 
> I don’t have a beta. All mistakes are mine.

John is counting down the hours before Bill leaves. 

Bill Murray is an old friend who comes to stay for a short visit, but like old friends, it isn’t long before he and John are getting into an argument. Old wounds that never really healed. 

The problem is that Bill never really forgave John for sleeping with his girlfriends, who John absolutely had no idea were dating him at the time, and John has too quick a temper to not get riled up when Bill makes passive-aggressive comments about it. 

It doesn’t help that through it all, Sherlock keeps darting in and out of the living room, pretending he’s working on his experiments but most certainly listening in and honestly being the world’s most maddening distraction. 

He’s wearing a pair of skinny jeans that on his ass should be illegal. Worse, he tends to bend over, highlighting the part of Sherlock’s body that is sinfully, enticingly pert. 

John licks his lips. Then he looks over to see Bill is also licking his lips. 

Dangerous. Fucking dangerous. 

  
  
  


Eva Shelley is brought up and it leads to a near brawl between the two men. 

Sherlock steps into the scene and makes a derogatory remark about them both before spinning on his heels and going into the kitchen. He’s wearing that red dressing gown and when he reaches up to get a mug the thin material outlines the high peach swells of his luscious ass. 

John growls under his breath. 

That Sherlock is smart enough to know every species of flora in all of England but is too fucking social unaware to be fucking blind to Bill’s libinous stares makes John want to shove him across the table...or do something else with him and a table…

  
  
  


Later, when they’re watching a game and drinking beers and Sherlock pouts about not having borax so John makes him go out himself to buy it, Bill turns to John and mutters, “God, that boy has the most incredibly plump ass.” 

“He’s not a boy.” John growls low and vicious. “And quit staring at his ass.” He adds in a deep gravelly threat. 

Bill snorts. “Fine. All I’m saying is his body was made for taking cock. If he was mine I would be bending him over every piece of furniture I have.”

“Well, he’s not yours.” John snarls back and gets up to get another glass of scotch. 

  
  
  


Bill leaves the next morning and John couldn’t be happier. He comes downstairs to find Sherlock puttering around his microscope again. 

“John, come look....” 

God, he looks beautiful in the early morning sun, the light catching all the auburn of his chocolate soft curls. John steps closer and inhales Sherlock’s scent: it's honey-sweet. 

Sherlock looks boyish and happy over his science and slides. John suspects that while he may drive many crazy with lust it's Sherlock's obliviousness to sex that imbues him with this innocence that is undeniable. Sherlock is sweet. He also smells sweet. Of honey, of apricots and vanilla. 

He suddenly feels guilty for the predatory thoughts that cross his fantasies. 

“Did you hear what I said John?” 

“I...er, was distracted.” 

Sherlock bites his bottom lip. “Look John I want to apologize. I am sorry if I made your visit with your friend difficult. I truly had to check on these slides every half hour.”

“Right.” John murmurs. “Look it doesn’t matter. You may be an ass but he’s a complete bastard, kept trying to undermine our friendship.” 

“Oh.” Sherlock’s eyes widen and for a second he looks genuinely scared. It touches John deeply that Sherlock might be frightened to lose their friendship. 

“Hey. Don’t worry about it. He’s just jealous is all.” 

“Oh.” Sherlock repeats again, eyes blinking rapidly in that doe-like way of his. 

  
  
  


Sherlock spends the rest of the afternoon and evening and well into the night parsing out what John had meant by ‘jealous.’ 

From what he’d read of Bill’s comments to John on his blog, and his knowledge of their history, he knew Bill had a sort of hero worship of John when they were younger, and he knew John had been a casanova. But John wasn’t callous. Not to a friend. 

Now, Bill Murray is certainly no John Watson. He hasn’t the rugged looks or quiet command that John’s solid presence gives off. 

It isn’t hard to imagine a young Bill getting a date with a girl who in actuality was trying to make moves on his far more gorgeous friend. Knowing John’s predilection and need to fuck often and his frequency of forgetting salient details of his partners it also isn’t a stretch to imagine John getting seduced by a girl who had perhaps a single date with Bill, Bill finding out and getting upset by it. 

Perhaps because Bill’s friendship with John is now so tenuous, he’s jealous at the bond between John and him. 

Yes. Yes, that seems the most likely scenario. 

  
  
  


Two days later and they’re on a case when they’ve finished a case and Lestrade has somehow managed to get Sherlock inside one of those odious bars, he finds he’s already reached his limit, or perhaps passed it. 

Giggling, he tells the bartender how amazing he is and how he single-handedly solved the puzzle the serial killer had been sending to the police. 

He’s happy to find the man isn’t too bored with it all either. 

“Look, poppet, I get off in an hour. Let me take you out somewhere much nicer and you can tell me all about those riddles again.”

Sherlock tilts his head to the side. “Are you… are you propositioning me?” 

“He’s not interested.” John’s deep voice rumbles beside them. He looks close to tearing the man limb from limb. Sherlock’s heart does a little swoop at how sexy John wears that look. 

John lifts Sherlock up and out of his seat and all but carries him outside and into the awaiting taxi. 

Sherlock isn’t quite sure why John is angry with him, except he _is_ angry and Sherlock doesn’t know why. 

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic. Please leave a comment as that would completely make my world.


End file.
